


Bruticus Tastes the Rainbow

by AgentOHare



Series: Combiner Vores [5]
Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: Burping, Digestion, Overeating, Vore, holy shit you guys this is long, unwilling vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-01
Updated: 2018-11-01
Packaged: 2019-08-14 00:43:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16482842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AgentOHare/pseuds/AgentOHare
Summary: Alternate title: why you should not leave your giant, dumb, hungry war machine alone with the POWs.





	Bruticus Tastes the Rainbow

The minibot squad had, against all odds, escaped Cybertron and responded to Prime’s signal on the faraway planet Earth. They were a team of specialists. Espionage, survival, fighting, you name it. Name the most far-fetched mission in the cosmos and they would probably accomplish it with an engex-fueled cocktail of big guns, cybertronic duct tape, and a healthy dose of luck.

 

Their luck wouldn’t last forever.

 

The seven minibots were tied to thick trees, strong enough to withstand a thrashing Cybertronian. They had made the mistake of stopping to spy on Megatron and his crew when they were supposed to go straight to the Ark. Skilled as they were, not even they could evade Soundwave. Unable to move, they could only make awkward small talk to pass the time until their eventual interrogation.

 

Suffice to say, this  _ sucked _ .

 

\-----

 

There was a rumble in the jungle.

 

Well okay, the cassette was there but that’s not what we’re talking about. This rumble came from the empty tanks of a tired, overworked, and frankly disgruntled Bruticus. Megatron had called upon the Combaticons’ combined form in order to clear a few acres of rainforest for his next scheme. Something about the Constructicons’ newest creation. Loyal as Bruticus was, even he grew weary after a few days of work without refuel.

 

_ *brrrrrblll...* _

 

His empty, acidic belly churned  _ again.  _ How in the world was he supposed to keep working like this? His tank felt like a swarm of ravenous scraplets was tumbling around inside it. And what he’d give for that. At least the scraplets could be digested, even if they'd gnaw on the inside of his tank they'd ultimately end up as nourishment.

 

“Bruticus!”

 

He knew that raspy voice anywhere.

 

“Yes Lord Megatron?”

 

“We are going out to raid the coal mines. I want you to stay here and guard the prisoners.”

 

“Yes my lord.”

 

So Bruticus waded through trees until he reached the edge of a small clearing. There, bound to the trees, were seven colorful little minibots, who predictably screamed when he came into view.

 

He proceeded to do his job, which consisted of staring at the captives. His laser focus on the seven made the whole thing very awkward.

 

Bruticus was dedicated to his work, but this job had little to distract him from his hollow fuel tank. It began to moan and writhe, trembling with hunger. And it was vocal about it too. The prisoners were deafened by the loud gurgles and groans.

 

One of those little idiots decided that this was the perfect time to talk.

 

“Wow… This dude sounds really hungry.” The blue one commented.

 

The red one snorted. “That's because Megatron doesn't feed his men.” 

 

“Let's hope he doesn't just decide to eat  _ us,  _ amirite fellas?” The violet one added, to the groans of his teammates.

 

That of course was meant to be a joke, but it was within earshot of Bruticus, making the gears in his head start turning.

 

Bruticus recalled other Decepticons chattering about Menasor eating Megatron. Had he not heard of the incident, the combiner would have never thought that there were potential snacks right before him.

 

The minibots were to be interrogated, most Decepticons knew that. But Bruticus was stupid, mind you. Stupid and  _ very _ hungry, enough to pay no attention to the little Onslaught-voice in his head screaming for him to stop.

 

There were… seven total. That’s a whole lot of minibots on one team. Surely Megatron wouldn’t miss  _ one _ ...

 

“Hey, what’s he doing?” The red minibot, a sportscar, whispered when Bruticus drew close. None of the others responded, the words taken from their voiceboxes by fear. Everyone tensed when Bruticus reached out, sure that they would be crushed.

 

With the clumsy dexterity befitting a combiner, Bruticus fumbled with the cables binding the red mini. 

 

“Is he… helping us?” 

 

The others shrugged, though still shocked.

 

Bruticus eventually grew frustrated and opted to simply rip the cables apart. The trembling red minibot was trapped in the combiner’s hands. Bruticus looked down at him with hunger in his optics, and the mini only struggled harder. Seeing such fear awakened Vortex within the gestalt mind, and Bruticus’ thoughts turned sadistic. Suddenly, he give the minibot a slow lick all across their minuscule form, taking in the panicked hyperventilation as the mini tried to push himself away as far as he could against the combiner’s fingers. 

 

The minibot suddenly found himself very close to an enormous red visor.

 

“W-What do you want with me?” he stammered.

 

The minibot’s captor laughed.

 

“BRUTICUS  _ HUNGRY… _ ”

 

The huge facemask split and retracted to reveal Bruticus’ nasal ridge and mouth. The giant dangled the red bot over his open mouth, showing him the dark pit of his maw, hot breath washing over him. Bruticus made sure to slowly lower the autobot in, ignorant of his pleas for mercy. He paused for one spark-stopping second. Just when the mini thought that the gestalt may reconsider, Bruticus let go.

 

The tantalizing flavor coursed through the combiner’s maw, accentuated with the sharp tang of fear among the lovely metallic taste. The red minibot had a certain burnt taste to him as well, as if he had been through smoke or flames. Bruticus lapped at the smoky morsel, heedless of the screaming. The way that the little Autobot squirmed only accentuated the flavor. Hungry as he was, the gestalt still took his sweet time savoring the taste as much as possible.

 

Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end. The endless prodding and licking rubbed that flavor away. It greatly disappointed Bruticus, who tilted his head back and sent his morsel down with an almost dejected  _ gulp _ .

 

The rest of the prisoners only stared, slack jawed and numb with shock. Someone started screaming, and a few voices joined him.

 

With a  _ splurt! _ , the red minibot was deposited into Bruticus’ eager tank. The walls turned, and it was pitch black. The disoriented mini would take a while to figure out that he’d been eaten. And when he did, he clawed at the fuel tank and screamed like a ‘bot possessed.

 

Not that Bruticus heard or cared.

 

“Mmm…  _ Good _ …” The giant rumbled. The little bot wriggled pleasantly in the pit if his stomach, but he was by no means filling. In fact, the minibot jostling his tank made Bruticus feel  _ hungrier _ .

 

And they were just so tasty that it was a  _ travesty _ not to have more!

 

His tank gurgled impatiently, urging him to pick another victim. Bruticus zeroed in on the next minibot in line, an orange flight frame.

 

The orange bot cursed as he was held in front of Bruticus’ open mouth, dangling as the gestalt held him just by his sensitive wings. A sharp pain not unlike pulling someone’s hair shot up his backstrut. He protested violently, kicking and punching at the air. He continued to curse when he was slurped up like some metallic noodle. His screams were quickly silenced as he passed the combiner’s lips.

 

Even though he was trapped, the orange mini was determined to escape. Even as bleak reality pierced through the fog of desperation he still struggled vainly. Meanwhile, Bruticus got to taste this mini all over. It was a divine medley of coppers and iron that tingled on his glossa and made his mouth overflow with drool.

 

Alas, the flavor did soon disappear. Rather conveniently, it happened in conjunction with the mini spending his last ounce of energy. He was unable to muster the power to even twitch, only sob in defeat as Bruticus sent him down easily.

 

While the orange mini was traveling down Bruticus’ throat, the gestalt ripped a yellow helicopter from his restraints and brought him up for a closer look. Oh, he was crying? Begging Bruticus to spare him, promising to tell him everything he knew?

 

How  _ pathetic _ . Bruticus would enjoy eating this little rat.

 

The yellow mini squirmed in Bruticus’ firm grip, still pleading uselessly. In response, the gestalt squeezed a little. An audible crack was heard, followed closely by the bot’s agonized scream.

 

He popped the sniveling little thing into his mouth, not bothering to even listen to his whining. Instead, the gestalt focused on the flavor. Had Bruticus been human, he would have thought just one thing:  _ lemony fresh! _

 

It was a good thing to cleanse his palate. But the flavor melted away quickly and Bruticus gulped. 

 

Nothing.

 

He gulped again.

 

Still nothing.

 

Why wasn’t that pathetic Autobot going down?

 

If Bruticus had the supernatural ability to look inside his own mouth then he would have seen the copter’s rotors sticking between his dentae, used by their owner as a makeshift brake.

 

Bruticus was getting increasingly annoyed by this troublesome snack. He plucked the mini off his glossa, feeling the rotors becoming unstuck. Even for an idiot like him it wasn’t hard to put two and two together. So how did our Combaticon hero(?) solve this issue?

 

Why, by snapping off the Autobot’s rotors of course!

 

The minibot screeched in agony, and in some dark corner of Bruticus’ mind Vortex felt… well, the closest approximation would be the human phrase ‘scared but horny’.

 

Bruticus replaced the copter, and was rewarded with a splash of leaking energon on his glossa. He shuttered his visor, savoring the liquid. Unfortunately, this distracted him. On the next tree, a green tank had been working to undo his restraints. As the team’s survival expert, he knew how to escape his restraints using tiny hidden blades in his wrists and heels.

 

Time was the issue. And the Decepticons hadn’t skimped on the restraints either: they were cosmo-titanium cables. Cutting through those would take a while. Luckily, he had been at it for a while. He ground his heel blade against the cabling. Almost there…

 

_ *snap!* _

 

The coiled cable fell from the tank’s body. Success! Though regrettably he didn’t have time to free his teammates. His best hope was to make it back to base and send out a rescue squadron. Maybe some warriors too, to fell that monster and cut his belly open.

 

With this in mind, he bolted.

 

_ Aim for the trees… _ he thought, darting past the combiner. Unfortunately, tanks were neither swift nor quiet.

 

A great hand lunged at the running minibot. The escapee never stood a chance.

 

While he had the green mini in his left hand, Bruticus unwrapped a blue one with his right and trapped him against his rumbling belly. The screams of the bot’s comrades were audible amongst the sloshing fluids, internal mechanisms and the monstrous growling of the fuel tank. He chose this time to swallow, giving both Autobots a clear view of their comrade dropping to his doom. The only sign he was even there was the slight distortion of the flexible throat mechanisms slinking downward.

 

The green tank trembled in fear, too scared to scream. All his survival skills wouldn’t save him now, and his dinky little blades would be harmless to the giant, inside and out. Bruticus opened their mouth wide in front of him, and the mini was blasted by the giant’s dank breath. It was hot and humid, but it still sent a chill down the tank’s spinal cable. Paralyzed by horror, he found himself unable to do anything but stare into the blackened cavern that was the gestalt’s mouth.

 

The maw was awash with drool. This minibot tasted bitter, seasoned with the dirt and plants he had trudged through during his travels. It was an earthier taste, one that Bruticus found simultaneously intriguing and boring. Like going to a high-end art gallery and not understanding the pieces present. So the taste session didn’t last so long. His glossa flicked the tank towards the open intake.

 

Bruticus held the blue mini above his jaws and opened wide. The bot tensed in horror as he saw two kicking green feet sticking out of the dark throat. Then the base of the glossa bucked, and the feet disappeared below as the previous victim was slurped down by the esophagus with a wet gulp.

 

A terrified blue minibot was now in his clutches. Bruticus laid him into his mouth, teasing him with his huge glossa, making him more than aware that Bruticus thought he and his comrades were only food. His salty taste intermingled with the tang of his tears, an excellent way to perk up the taste receptors after that dirty tank. Finally, Bruticus swallowed him, the minibot slipping into the giant’s throat, kicking and screaming all the way. The chaser to the green bot he witnessed mere moments ago.

 

As Bruticus felt the blue minibot thud into his tank, he also became aware of the fact that he was feeling full. Now most reasonable bots would stop eating when they felt full, but Bruticus was not reasonable. The meal had become a sort of self-imposed challenge: could he eat all seven minibots?

 

_ There’s no way we can -hic- fit all of them… _

 

_ We’ve already got five of the little fraggers down there! What difference does two more make? _

 

_ Uh, a lot? _

 

_ Even so, we could still do this guys! _

 

_ You’re not backing down, are you? _

 

_ Nnnnope. _

 

_ *sigh* Alright… But if we get sick, it’s your fault. _

 

_ Sounds fair. _

 

The indigo minibot, an ATV, had watched helplessly while his teammates were effortlessly swallowed. It made him even feel even more despondent, as he was a mere navigator. Even if he had somehow managed to escape, his skills would be of no use defending himself or even to survive on this unknown planet. He would be gunned down, or starve to death. He was doomed. Doomed doomed doomed. Had he not been an Autobot, he probably would’ve gotten on well with Dead End.

 

As nihilistic as he was, the ‘I’m about to die’ response still kicked in and he shook in fear as Bruticus turned his attention towards the little ATV, rubbing his belly and licking his lips like a fat cat as he tore through the binding cables. The combiner raised the indigo mini up to his open jaws, and adrenaline reduced the ATV to tears, begging and pleading not to be swallowed.

 

Funny how certain situations change a person’s behavior.

 

The mini shook and sobbed in Bruticus’ palm as the giant’s warm glossa fell upon him, slowly dragging across every inch of his body. The swiping motions allowed the giant to taste the mini fully, taking in the prickly tang of sour tungsten and bitter steel.  His mind was running on and on about how deliciously sharp the flavor was as he slipped the quivering little thing into his mouth.

 

The tang arced across Bruticus’ glossa like an electric shock, only amplified by the shakes that wracked the mini’s frame. The whimpering sobs turned into full blown bawling, muffled by the jaws. Bruticus swallowed him all the same, his throat vibrating pleasantly as the morsel descended.

 

The indigo bot squeezed into the little free space that was left. The extra weight topped off the tank and then some. Bruticus felt heavy, but he did resolve to finish his meal...

 

And so he picked up the violet mini, the one responsible for this whole mess.

 

“W-wait!” He cried. “There are six others down there! Are you sure you can fit me?”

 

“Bruticus has-  _ urp _ \- room for  _ one _ more. Now it’s  _ your _ turn!” 

  
  


And the mini was popped in the mouth without fanfare. Bruticus was a bit too tired of eating to consider the flavor. The voices in his head urged him to swallow, despite the oppressive fullness built up inside. It was like something from Man vs. Food.  _ One more bite! One more bite! _

 

Eventually, he worked up the energy to swallow.

 

The final mini sank towards his inevitable destination, struggling deliciously the whole way. Or he would have, if Bruticus wasn't so uncomfortably bloated.

 

And finally, Bruticus was finished and full.

 

_ *bbbrrrrrrRrRRDAAAAAAAAAAaaaAaAPpp!* _

 

A little  _ too _ full, in fact.

 

Having cleared his plate so to speak, Bruticus got up.

 

Bruticus’ normally trim stomach now pushed out quite a bit. It could be overlooked at first glance, but if you were specifically looking at his belly then it was noticeably  _ rounded _ . The minibots were packed like sardines; there was absolutely no room to move. He felt utterly swollen.

 

Inside it was boiling hot. It was a tight squeeze for minibot number seven. He was pressed into the protoform folds of the beyond crowded tank. Met with the angry stared of his six teammates, he could only chuckle nervously and shield his face before they started whaling on him.

 

The brawl shook Bruticus’ tank about, making him feel rather queasy. A new belch escaped his lips as he began to rub the dense bulge. Ugh, so full...

 

His tank bubbled ominously. This was the prelude to another monstrous belch, one that echoed across the canopy with such force that it surprised the combiner. Surely even the Decepticons back at base could hear it..

 

Decepticons…

 

Wait.

 

_ Wait! _

 

Bruticus’ optic shot open. Those. Were. Megatron’s. Prisoners!

 

What was he  _ thinking? _

 

He didn't have time to panic further.

 

“BRUTICUS!” Megatron's voice called. He had to think if something quickly.

 

“Bruticus saw Autobots, so Bruticus attacked and they fled. But when Bruticus came back, prisoners were not there.”

 

Bruticus was grateful for his battle mask as it hid the face he made trying to restrain his burps.

 

“Did you see them escape?”

 

“Bruticus did not see them, Lord Megatron.” He lied, subtly shifting so that his belly was obscured by a particularly tall tree. “They must have escaped with Autobots.”

 

“Then  _ search the area,  _ you colossal oaf! They mustn't have gone far!”

 

“As you command.”

 

Megatron stormed off, shouting the same order to his subordinates ahead. Bruticus got up and pretended to scan the thicket for the “escapees”.  _ That  _ had been a close call.

 

The giant looked down at his abdomen, taking in the ever so slight bumps that twitched and slid along as the minicons squirmed inside.

 

_ *squelch* _

 

He was churning up a bellyful of POWs.

 

Bruticus felt his bowed out abdominal armor as his preys’ motions slowed. And as time went on, slowed further. Eventually he could no longer feel the jostling of the minibots, and he gave a quick pat of the gut to confirm it. Nothing. Bruticus felt a sick sense of delight well up in his spark as he realized that his tank snuffed out the last of the minibot team’s life. Or at least tired them to the point of immobility, meaning that death would come soon.

 

The food coma hit. Coupled with the fatigue from days of work, Bruticus began to feel very sleepy.

 

The gestalt reclined against a vine-infested cliffside, scaring off the macaws that had clustered to feed. He gently powered off his visor, resting his head on top of a particularly dense tree cluster like a pillow. His gut sloshed with the remains of his prey, now reduced to metallic sludge deep within his belly. Not that anyone could hear it through the deep snoring, loud enough to rattle the branches of the mangroves and send ripples across the calm river.

  
  


\-----

 

“By Primus, why the hell did we think eating that much was a good idea?” Blast Off moaned, a hand clasped over his facemask. “I-I think I’m going to be  _ sick… _ ”

 

“Tell me about it.” Vortex responded, hunched over. “I really like being full for once, not to mention getting to torture a couple of Autobots in the process, but I’m too heavy to fly now. Until I digest some of this, I’m grounded!”

 

The complaint session was interrupted by a resounding belch, courtesy of Brawl.

 

“I don’t see what you all are whining about! We got fuel  _ and _ an opportunity to kill Autobots.” he gave his bulging stomach a proud pat. “That was one hell of a meal! We should do that again sometime!”

 

Blast Off swallowed down the bile that had risen in his throat. “I would rather we  _ not _ , thank you very much.”

 

Brawl shrugged. “Not my fault you can’t appreciate a good meal. What about you, Swindle?”

 

“Hey, it’s free fuel. Can’t complain- _ ah! _ ” Swindle cringed when a particularly bad stomach cramp hit, his teammates looking on with worry. “I-I’ll be fine. I just gotta lay down for a while. Too much of a good thing, huh?”

 

“You said it-” Vortex was cut off by a cramp of his own. “ _ Ooh _ , I ate too much…”

 

“We  _ all _ ate too much!”

 

“ _ I  _ didn’t.”

 

“Shut up, Brawl!”

 

“Ugh… You know what guys?” Swindle interjected, hands on his abdomen. “I don't even think this stuff is digesting. It's just  _ sitting _ there!”

 

“Swindle may be right.” Blast Off groaned. “Bruticus’s fuel tank is larger and more powerful than ours. This is just too much material for us to begin to process.”

 

“I don't think I'm digesting either.” Vortex replied. “It's so much…”

 

* _ gggrrrrrrrrr* _

 

That sound, the telltale sound of digestion, rang through the air, directing the three Combaticons’ attention towards Brawl.

 

In response to the stares he was receiving, Brawl belched, relieving his tank of some pressure.

 

“What're  _ you _ lookin’ at?”

 

“You're  _ digesting _ .” Vortex stated, somewhat dumbfounded. “How?”

 

“What do you mean  _ how? _ It's  _ fuel _ . It  _ digests _ .”

 

“Yeah, but all that fuel at once. Your tank isn't any stronger than ours, what's going on?” Swindle inquired.

 

“Oh,  _ that _ .” Brawl realized. “I just rubbed nice and deep to get it going.”

 

The tank went up to Vortex, at the front of the group, and laid a broad hand on the copter's gut. He could feel the overstuffed stomach twitch in a futile attempt to mash the fuel and decrease its mass to a manageable level. 

 

“You see, like this.”

 

“Hey, what're you-!”

 

Brawl did not listen to Vortex’s protests as he pushed into the swollen gut, rubbing up and down while thumbing along the sides. Its owner ceased struggling and slumped, taking in the massage. His tired belly  _ definitely _ needed some attention. The rotors spun gently in pleasure as the uncomfortable pressure went out of his tank and up his-

 

* _ uuuuuuurp!* _

 

-throat. 

 

Brawl waved a hand in front of his facemask.

 

“ _ Phew, _ that was a good one, ‘Tex!”

 

Vortex was about to reply when his fuel tank gurgled to life. He was cut off again by another burp.

 

“There you go. Just needed a kickstart, s’all.”

 

“Oh.”  Vortex leaned against a tree, caressing his belly.  “ _ Mmm _ , this feels _ -urp-  _ good... now…”

 

Vortex began to slip into the throes of a food coma. While the sleepy copter was drifting off, letting out more burps once in a while, Brawl was instructing the other Combaticons. Eventually, more grumbling bellies joined Vortex and Brawl in a digestive chorus. Soon, everybody was enjoying their haul.

 

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten as much in my life…” Swindle murmured, about to take a nap himself.

 

“But it feels good though.” Brawl commented.

 

“ _ Yeah… _ ” Swindle yawned. “It does…”

 

“I rescind my earlier statement. This  _ was _ a good idea.” Blast Off slurred. “Each and every one of those minibots was simply splendid.”

 

“So you ate them?” A raspy voice cut through the sleepy haze like a hot knife.

 

Megatron.  _ Slag. _

 

Luckily, Swindle stepped in. He had the gift of gab after all, it was how he became so successful as a salesbot.

 

“Yeah, we ate them. Some Auto-scum tried to infiltrate the base so we took a page out of Devy’s book and had ourselves a nice meal.”

 

Megatron looked irate.

 

“And I suppose they would send a team of minibots instead of proper warriors to attack an enemy base?” He growled, aiming his fusion cannon right between Swindle’s big, panic-filled eyes.

 

“ _ Fools! _ You cost us potentially useful information! You will pay for deceiving me!” he roared.

 

The shrieks from the guilty Combaticons echoed across the rainforest. From the nearby supply depot Onslaught sighed, cradling his own overstuffed belly. 

  
“I  _ did _ try to warn you all…”


End file.
